


A Million Dollar Christmas

by Oscurita



Series: The Beast Of Burden [2]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Affection, Angst, Banter, Bickering, Cheating, Christmas Fluff, Christmas fic, F/M, Family Drama, Flash Forward, Fluff, Glimpse Of The Future, Happy!Michael, Infidelity, Laughter, Love, Mistress, No Spoilers, Romance, Snark, affectionate!Michael, bonus chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:09:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oscurita/pseuds/Oscurita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(*This is a spoiler free <i>flash-forward</i> two part story, that skips a few months ahead of the events of <b><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3962962/chapters/8887858">Million Dollar Man</a></b>*)</p><p>A glimpse into the future of Michael and Cassidy's relationship, and their first (unconventional) Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> So, I know I'm torturing you with [Million Dollar Man](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3962962/chapters/8887858), and that some of you may be losing hope that Michael and Cassidy will ever end up together. So because it's Christmas (yeah, I know I'm a couple of days late, my bad!) I wanted to give you guys a little something extra -in the form of a festive flash-forward- as some way of saying thank you for reading the main story and continuing to give me so much encouragement and inspiration with your amazing comments and kudos. I'm also hoping in return, it'll encourage you all to hang in there with the main storyline, by proving there _will_ eventually be romance and physical intimacy between Michael and Cassidy. 
> 
> Anyways, I do hope you enjoy the read. Hoping you all had a lovely, stress free holiday season and that the new year will bring you all much health and happiness.

As predicted, the Christmas morning in the De Santa house was nothing but squabbles and snide cutting remarks. Each year things seemed to just get worse, especially since the kids had grown up, and yet again they'd failed to find some festive good cheer and there was certainly no peace to all men to be found. 

With so many failures from the past year pressing at their backs, the animosity between the four family members seemed to be at an all time high, as they sat around the dining room table. Eating in a tense silence and wishing they could be anywhere else in the world but there. 

Michael had begun to contemplate his ability to cut the atmosphere with the knife he'd used to carve the glazed ham. Which had been bought pre-cooked from an overpriced deli to save Amanda the trouble of watching the oven for hours on end. The side dishes had been made by their housekeeper a day earlier and nuked within an inch of their lives before being served, which was nothing unusual of course. Back in the mid-west, making do with a tiny trailer kitchen had put Amanda off cooking for life. Even with the space of gleaming marble counters and modern appliances at her disposal, the desire to cook rarely came to her, especially now the children were older and capable of making their own food. She had however attempted to make a special desert with Tracey's help, but after an early morning squabble about Tracey's recent behaviour, it had been left unfinished on the counter. 

The truth told, it was a Christmas like any other since they'd arrived in Los Santos. The only difference was that they were all another year older and even more distant that the year before. 

Michael had never been a fan of Christmas, as a child he'd equated it with disappointment and drunken fighting between his parents. However, when his own children had been small he'd managed to rediscover some magic in the festive season, but the stresses of making money to provide for them in the way he wanted to always tried to take a lot of shine off it. A shine which fortunately seemed so easily the replaced on the moment he saw little Tracey and Jimmy's stumble sleepily out of bed into the living area of the small trailer they lived in, faces lighting up against the cold and gloom at the sight of their gifts. 

Now however, it seemed there was no joy left to be found in Christmastime. Those little kids that once simply wanted a new bike, or the latest Barbie doll, now wanted thousands of dollars in cash as well as a pile of gifts to open. Gifts that contained designer names and expensive technology that would be outdated within six months. 

Michael couldn't help but be terribly bitter about how times had changed, but he begrudgingly tried to accept the fact that situations and people had to evolve, knowing he couldn't turn back to better, _simpler_ days of early parenthood. Even though he understood why things had become such a way for his family, and that the negativity of the situation was mostly he own doing, the apparent lack of gratitude still stung him. 

When did the adorable little children who climbed all over him with excitement, turn into such entitled, ungrateful adults? So seemingly greedy now and unappreciative of all the luxuries they had. Luxuries that he'd killed, multiple times, to provide for them. 

"Ew! G-ross!" Tracy hissed across the table to Jimmy. "Dad! Tell him to stop chewing with his mouth open."

The acidic anger Michael had felt bubbling away in him since that morning bubbled up, but he refused to let it get the better of him, and growled a firm but controlled warning. Jimmy!"

" _What!_ This is how I eat! If she doesn't like it, tell her to go put that two thousand dollar jacket on and go eat outside!" the youngest De Santa spat back bitterly, through a fork full of mash potatoes. 

"You're the one eating like an animal." Tracy returned. "YOU go eat outside!" 

"Can we just try to get through this dinner without fighting? For once? Is it too much to ask?" Amanda put in, poking at her greens that had long gone cold. Dreaming of a million places she'd rather be than spending forced family time around the dinner table, watching the divide in their picture perfect family grow ever wider. 

"Too late for that." Jimmy threw back, glaring at Tracey. 

"You're just being an asshole because I got more than you this year." she returned with sharp eyes. 

"For the fifth time," Amanda snapped. "You both got the same amount of money spent on you! _And_ you both got the same amount of cash in your cards, so can you just drop this already?"

"Of course, because it's not like you to show favouritism or anything." Jimmy gave back, looking down his nose at his father. 

Michael swallowed the swarm of harsh replies that had gathered on his tongue and cast his eyes away to the kitchen, searching around for the strength to stop himself erupting and flipping the damn table over. The urge to storm out of the house into the freak snowstorm that had hit Los Santos out of nowhere two days earlier, was growing stronger and with every word out of his families mouths. 

He told himself that things were extra tense as the unexpectedly cold weather probably wasn't doing anything to help the mood of his family, who's blood had thinned in the ten years of living in the sun. However, the underlying animosity amongst them from the past twelve months, _and more_ , was what had truly turned everything so sour. The forced house arrest due to the cold was just bringing their issues even closer to the surface, and holding them in place like leaves beneath the frozen surface of a lake. 

Jimmy continued to eat exaggeratedly, staring his sister dead in the eye as his did so, while she picked at the plate of food she'd barely touched. Michael could feel Amanda's eyes burning into the side of his head, urging him to say something to settle their children or end the charade they were trapped in. 

Michael however, was stubborn. As much as his family drove him crazy and bought out the worst in each other, he wanted to spend time with them. He wanted to be around his children at Christmas, even if they'd grown to be ungrateful snots, who'd rather have their teeth pulled than spend time with him. He refused to be the one to end the dinner, particularly on a bad note. He had to do all he could to remain calm, forget trying to achieve the impossible Vinewood Christmas Movie scene that he'd dreamt over and accept that things were never going to be as perfect for his family as celluloid had falsely promised. 

He had to keep practicing the breathing and control techniques his former therapist had insisted on, hoping they would help him get through the day. While helping distract him from thinking about just how badly he wanted to be with her in that moment instead. 

Their affair had been going on for months and so far no one seemed to know about it, and it was essential they kept it that way. She was spending Christmas all by herself on the other side of town, having insisted that Michael spend the day with his family and not with her. Michael of course tried to argue, but she wouldn't budge. Digging in her heels and refusing to let him indulge his need to escape his responsibilities. 

So there he was, trapped in the house, reminded by all his failures, as a husband and a father and wishing he could be across town with his girlfriend. 

Was girlfriend the right word? He still wasn't sure. If he wanted to be pedantic, he'd have to refer to her as his "mistress" but that word didn't seem to fit her. 

When he spoke to Solomon, and guys at the studio or the golf club about having extra marital affairs, they always painted pictures of overly glamorous women. The type who kept fresh cut flowers in every room, and spent their days in salons and spas making themselves look the best they possibly could. Women who got dressed up to the nines when their man was visiting, and who were easily satiated by expensive gestures of affection, in the form of jewellery or fancy lingerie and perfumes. Mistresses seemed to be a kind of toy that men picked up and put down at will. A kind of perfect women that a man went to on order to forget absolutely everything outside of their bedroom. The bit-on-the-side who was an added bonus to a man's life, a place of complete escapism but that wasn't Cassidy. 

She didn't let him forget who he was, what they were doing. She didn't keep flowers in her house, by her own admission she could barely keep a houseplant alive. She never went to spas and only visited a salon to get her hair cut. Most of all, she absolutely hated him buying her expensive gifts, and had nipped the very idea that he could in the bud very early into their relationship. 

She didn't panic about tidying the house for him to come by, or keeping herself and everything she owned perfect in some desperate need to keep him interested. She didn't spend hours preening herself, painting her face to put on a slinky gown just to stay at home and eat a meal she'd prepared for him. She didn't wait around for him to throw her a few minutes of his time either, she was independant, she had her own life and that fact frustrated and pleased him in equal measure. 

No. She wasn't his mistress. That word didn't fit. Sure, she cooked him meals, but only because she was cooking for herself and he was there. She took good care of herself, but she didn't hide behind a painted face and over-the-top glamour to keep him interested. She didn't need to; he seemed to find her more appealing when he'd caught her unaware. Finding beauty in her hair being muzzed, and face free of makeup. To him she looked sexy just dressed in some ratty old jean shorts and a t-shirt that didn't fit her properly. And that was what he liked the best - her perfect imperfections. The little things that reminded him she was real, and not just another part of the Vinewood phoniness that had grown old. 

She wasn't some woman who waited around to be at his beck and call, or someone he only bothered with when he could squeeze her into his scheduled. No; she was someone he couldn't stop thinking about. Even in all the time since they'd finally given into their desires, and all the stresses that had tried to tear them apart, he still couldn't stop his mind wandering to her a hundred times a day. 

She saw him at his lowest points, when he was trapped in the darkness of his past, and she rode the waves of his successes with him when everyone else around him took no interest.. In return she had let him see at her worst, revealed her darkest secrets to him, and it had all made him love her so much more than he thought he was capable of. 

He knew he should have felt terrible about what he was doing with her, and he _wanted_ to feel terrible about it, especially in that moment - for thinking of his girlfriend while his wife and children were around his dinner table, but he couldn't. Lately it seemed that the only thing that got him through his hours at home was knowing that she was out there for him, waiting in her little house on the beach. 

He knew she hated him thinking of her as some kind of cure-all for his problems, but he couldn't help feeling that's what she was. He'd felt so much better about the world since they'd finally given into themselves and gor their act together. Although in the months they'd been carrying on, she never let him forget his reality. 

She wouldn't allow for him to escape his domestic responsibilities, and she certainly didn't afford him the liberty of wallowing in self pity, as he so often wanted to. That's how he knew 'mistress' wasn't the right word for her. She didn't pretend his family didn't exist, keeping on a brave face about him being at home with his wife, and she never pressured him to make choices he wasn't ready to make. She was firm with him when she needed to be, trying in some way to help him be a better man. Despite the immoral nature of their very relationship voided what little good she was doing in that department. 

Even though he probably would have much preferred her to play the mistress role better, and indulge his need to completely escape his real life, he appreciated the way she cared about the impact of their relationship on his family. She was so often self-less, allowing him to leave whenever they called on him; understanding the limitations of their relationship, and often reminding him of them when he wilfully forgot. 

He admired her fierce independence, but he knew it was partly an act. Her way of proving to him that she didn't need him, that she'd be okay if he changed his mind and chose his family over her but the more time they spent together the more solid his need to make a choice became. 

She had always been some kind of solace for him, right from the very beginning of their relationship, and her company had become like a drug to him. A drug he'd become quickly addicted to; a drug needed another hit of before he completely lost his mind to the damaged reality he was trapped in. 

"Quit staring at me, freak!" Tracey spat, rapidly growing tired of her brother's deliberate goading. Breaking Michael's contemplation and bringing him back into the intensity of the situation before him. 

"Why don't you go and make yourself puke, Trace. You've eaten like three mouthfuls, that's way too much. You don't wanna get any fatter." Jimmy threw back cruelly. 

"Like you can say anything about getting fat. You can't even tie your own shoes." 

"Shut up!" Jimmy returned. "It's bad glands!" 

Michael reached for his glass of scotch and threw the liquid down his throat, feeling the heat of his wife's glare reaching fever pitch. He knew he was being a useless asshole; sitting there quietly seething and thinking about letting rip on everyone around him and running off to be with another woman. 

If he was a better father, _a better man_ he would have focused on ways to improve the situation, or try to make it bearable at least. He should have cut in firmly and stopped the fighting once and for all, tried to patch things up between his children and unite them somehow, but he didn't have it in him to be bothered. He knew from years of experience that the effort would be wasted. 

He, like everyone else at the table, just wanted the whole fiasco to end, and the quicker the better. If his children fighting venomously expedited the conclusion of their Christmas lunch, then who was he to interfere?

"At least I can chew with my mouth closed." Tracey muttered nastily. 

"Well it's a shame you can't keep your legs closed too!" Jimmy hissed. 

"You look like a pig!" 

"Good! Now you know how it feels to have to look at one!" Jimmy yelled. 

"ENOUGH!" Michael erupted, slamming his tumbler down on the table. "E-fuckin'-nough! None of us wanna be here, but can we just have one meal, around this Goddamn table, where you two aren't at each other's throats?" 

"Do you want the honest answer, or one you want to hear?" Jimmy threw at his father. 

Amanda sighed heavily and dropped her fork loudly on her plate. "I'm done." she dismissed. "If we can't sit here and be civil for Christmas, what hope is there?" she said, more of a statement than a question. "You can leave the table," she told the children. "Go do whatever it is you want to, that gives me a bit of peace and quiet." 

The two twenty-somethings didn't need any further instruction, and practically leapt at the chance to get up from the table and flee the scene of the crime. Jimmy vanished upstairs back to his room to play on the bundle of video games he'd been gifted. While Tracey ran to the living room to grab her brand new smartphone, that Michael had forced her to put down to come and eat, before giving chase after her brother. 

Defeated, Michael put his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. Trying hard not to listen to the angry, raised voices of his children filtering down through the floor above him. 

In that moment he wondered once again where his American Dream had gone wrong, but it was becoming increasingly clear that while he had a hundred reasons for why things were messed up, there were no solutions to correct the nightmare his life, and that of his families, had become. 

"Can you at least help me clear up before you go and get drunk on the couch?" Amanda asked out into the loaded silence, getting to her feet and gathering up the plates. "Eva's not back in until Monday." 

Michael didn't say a word, he couldn't trust himself to not say something awful and completely unforgivable about the state of their family Christmas, and how the house would go to rack and ruin without the help of their housekeeper. However, he stood up and dutifully began to gather up the half full dishes and platters that were centered on the table. 

He and his wife of twenty-some years barely functioned together on any level, but somehow they worked well enough together to manage to clear away the leftovers, placing what was salvageable into the fridge and the dirty dishware into the sink with a blast of hot water. 

They didn't say a word to each other as they worked, there wasn't anything left to say, no conversation to be had or plans to make. Their attempt to patch things up and work through their problems had been dead in the water for far too long, now it seemed that tragically it was only habit and sense of duty that held them together. 

Once the final plate was cleared, Michael stood and took stock of yet another failed Christmas. "Where did it all go wrong?" he muttered to himself. 

"I could tell you, but I'm pretty sure you already know." Amanda told him flatly, as she took a new bottle of wine from the rack, picked up her glass from the table and silently vanished off to the bedroom where she could find some peace and comfort. Leaving Michael alone downstairs to contemplate again his mistakes and apparent inability to ever do the right thing by those he cared about. 

He stood at the kitchen island, hands pressed down on the cold marble, listening to the silence he hated. He hadn't been able to get used to the quiet when his family had left several months earlier, he'd hated every minute of it but he understood that particular silence. It was a symptom of the absence of people, however this silence, was different. _Worse._ It told of a family divided, a group of people who could barely stand to be under the same roof as one another, and it felt so much emptier than their physical absence had. 

Guessing he needed to find some distraction from the misery and self-pitying he could feel taking a hold, he picked up a bottle of scotch from the counter and took a detour through the dining room to grab up his glass on route to the couch. 

He knew there had to be a slew of movies on TV at that time of year. Christmas movies that showed nothing but happy families coming together and realizing how much they loved one another under the twinkle of Christmas lights. Images that seemed to make him feel just that bit more terrible about how fractured his family had become. 

Melting into the couch, he thumbed through the channels with the remote, blindly settling on a black and white movie that didn't look too familiar, or festive. However, he was unable to focus on the screen as quickly as he had hoped, and instead he put his hand into his pocket to check his phone and found a single text message waiting him. 

Typical of Trevor to message late in the day, he'd probably just woken up from a meth or booze induced coma, barely remembering what day it was. At least if memory served him correctly that's how things would have been for his old friend at that time of year. 

His mind went briefly back almost thirty years to Christmases spent in dilapidated hotel rooms, when Christmas dinner consisted of mostly liquor and whatever snacks they could find in vending machines. At the time he hated it, but now he looked back with an oddly fond nostalgia. Things had changed dramatically over the years, and not for the better but if he was offered a choice being there in big, hollow mansion, alone and miserable, over being back in some icy backwater town, watching a tiny grainy TV instead of his cinema screen, hell - he'd take it. _Anywhere but there!_ Anything seemed better than being miserable and surrounded by reminders of his failure to be the better man he wished he could have become. 

_'merry xmass pork chop dont eat 2 much!'_ the text read, and Michael almost smiled. Knowing that was the most sentiment he'd ever get from Trevor. _'Thanks, T.'_ he typed back. _Try not to kill anyone today, ok?'_ satisfied with his comeback, he hit send as his mind flickered briefly to the other people in his life. 

Franklin and Lester, in particular. Both of whom had already exchanged wishes with him earlier in the day, but he wondered what they were all doing at that moment. It was easy to guess that whatever they were up to had to be better than the day he was having. 

He recalled that Franklin was trying to make amends with his aunt, breaking bread together and attempting to be civil. While Lester was out in Florida, begrudgingly spending time with his sister who he could barely stand, and it amused Michael to imagine his reclusive old buddy surrounded by an irritating slew of nieces and nephews and other fussing relatives. He chuckled to himself, considering that maybe his own festive hell wasn't so bad after all. 

He thought to his newest friend - Solomon, the man he admired so deeply, who was spending the day with his own family. Consisting of his third wife and clueless son, who Michael butted heads with with at the studio at least once a week. While that Christmas day would go down in his books as a disaster, at least Christmas Eve had been well spent. Sitting in the old guy's office, taking and laughing as together they made short work of an expensive bottle of scotch. 

Then his mind shifted dramatically, moving to darker thoughts of those people whose lives he'd taken. How different their families Christmases would be minus a familiar face around the table. 

A coldness bit within him and he shook the thoughts from his head. Knocking back some whiskey to chase off the chill of his guilt. 

Desperate for distraction from his own guilt, he cast his mind back to warmer thoughts of Cassidy -his happy place- but even the light he found with her in his mind seemed darker than usual. Thinking about how she was alone, left with thoughts of her own past and missing all she once had, hurt him more than he expected it to. 

He knew she was volunteering to have calls patched through to her from some seasonal helpline for people who needed a shoulder to cry on, but he couldn't imagine that being much fun. She'd mentioned to him that she might make an effort to go and meet a few people she knew from the Spanish classes she took. Young people, her own age who were away from their families at Christmas and looking to be social and avoid loneliness with anyone they could find. 

He was glad she had somewhere to go, but he worried the sudden snow would hamper her plans, and something had told him all along that she would just stay home anyway. He knew her well enough to accurately guess that she was just trying to make herself seem busy, make him believe she was going to be okay without him on the worst day of the year for someone who was as haunted as she. 

He sighed heavily, wishing he could get away to be with her, or reach out with a text or a quick phone call, but he knew it would just make her disappointed in him. He'd have to sit tight, and count down the hours until he could leave the house and venture over to her. They'd planned to have a Christmas together the following day, but it seemed like there was a lifetime to wait until he could be with her again. 

Feeling lower than he had in a while, he let his eyes wander aimlessly around the empty room, settling on the large regal Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, one of three scattered around the house, but the one that had caused the most squabbles and drama over tangled lights and broken baubles. 

It seemed that lately every little thing triggered some kind of animosity within those four walls. He wanted to hate it all, to be pissed about how his family couldn't be fixed no matter how hard he tried, but as his mind strayed back to Cassidy again, he could no longer find it in him to wish for the day he repaired what he'd broken. 

He wanted to be with her more than anything. To move on with his life and be with her full time, but her career made it impossible for them to do so quickly. He had to have patience with her and the evolution of their relationship, but patience wasn't his strong point, especially in that moment. 

He wanted to text her, he needed to check in and see if she was surviving. Find out if she missed him as much as he missed her, let her know how much he was thinking of her but he knew she'd probably be mad at him for breaking his promise to focus on only his family for the day. She tried so hard to make sure he put them first, even when it cost her happiness. 

He wanted to dislike that about her, he wanted her to demand that he left his family, force him to make a choice, but she wouldn't. He knew deep down it broke her heart to see him return to his life every time he walked away from her, but her courage to stand up to him and for the others that needed him made him love and admire her so much more. 

Needing to see her face and remind himself of the love that waited so patiently for him, he took out his phone again and clicked through it until he found a hidden file of pictures. Selfies he'd taken with her over the months they'd been seeing one another. A few shots from a short trip they'd gone on together, some random snaps of her around her house and down on the beach. Just the sight of her made him feel warm inside, reminding him that despite everything there was still one person in the world who could tolerate his company, all his flaws and failures. 

Christmas would have been so much better if she'd given in and let him whisk her off somewhere tropical. Or even if she'd agreed to disappearing off to the middle of the ocean for a couple of days on his new yacht, but she dug her heels in. Refused every suggestion he made until he submitted and agreed to do the right thing and spend the day at home with his family. 

They'd discussed, at great length, the course their relationship would have to take in order for it to overcome all the obstacles in the way. How they'd have to establish a distance between them professionally, how long they'd have to hide before they could let their relationship see the light of day. He knew it was going to be a long wait until they could spend the holidays together properly, as an official couple, but the hope that a brighter day lay ahead, _for everyone_ , somehow managed to prop him up and stop him falling down into the pit of despair that called out his name into the silence of his soulless house. 

He filled his glass with a little more whiskey and wiggled back into the couch, settling in for a few more lonely hours until he was drunk enough to pass out in front of the TV, but he'd barely had chance to take a fresh sip before Tracey came barrelling down the stairs headed straight for the front door. 

"Hey!" Michael cried, quickly getting to his feet, remoting the TV off and hurrying into the foyer in a weak attempted to stall her. "Where you goin'?" 

She'd pulled on some jeans and furry boots with a duvet-like coat that she must have dug out of a box deep in the attic. "Out! I've got a friend picking me up."

"It's snowin'!" he cried. "I don't want you out there with all the drunks and sun addled morons who can't drive in this shit." 

"I'll be fine, Daddy!" Tracey dismissed. "They live close by and we're just going to do..." she hesitated, searching for a lie. "....online shopping together, or _something_. Don't worry. I'll be fine." 

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, Tracey had flung the door open and disappeared out into the stark whiteness of the world. "Please be careful!" he called after her but she was already gone. 

He sighed heavily for the tenth time that day. "I guess that's that then." he said to himself as the front door slowly fell shut, refreshing the silence that rang through the house. There was no salvaging the day now; he'd failed yet again to hold his family together for one miserable day. 

"Was that Tracey?" Amanda's voice came down from the top of the stairs, pulling Michael's attention. 

"Yeah, she's gone out. Couldn't stop her."

"Oh." she hesitated for a moment, not wanting to seem too keen. "I'm gonna do the same then." she announced and vanished instantly, leaving Michael standing in the center of the foyer, his shoulders slumped with the weight of another heavy sigh. 

"For fuck sake." he muttered to himself, looking back to the living room, and the glass of amber oblivion waiting for him. 

He was at a cross roads. 

There was no doubt that he knew exactly which path he wanted to take but he had to be sure before he could make a move. 

He jogged up the stairs and made a b-line for his son's room. He didn't like the idea of leaving him alone in the house on Christmas day, but he knew Jimmy well enough to know having the house to himself would have been the best gift to give him that day. 

"Hey Jim?" he called through the locked door. 

"GO AWAY!" Jimmy's voice was muffled but his aggression was clear. He wanted nothing to do with anyone but the faceless voices he insulted over his gaming headset. 

Unsurprised, but still irritated by the dismissal, Michael took it as a sign to do what he wanted to do to please himself. Everyone else was doing what they wanted, not what they felt like they were duty bound to do, so why shouldn't he do the same? 

Before he could let himself feel guilty about his decision, he made for the bedroom, barging in through the door without a moment's concern for his wife's privacy.

"Michael! What the hell!" Amanda yelled, grabbing a sweater from the bed to cover herself as she changed. "Can you knock!" 

"This is still my bedroom too." Michael growled. "And you don't need to worry!" he dismissed with a wave of his hand, marching straight into the closet without casting an eye towards his half naked wife. "You ain't got nothing I wanna see anymore." 

"Good!" she hissed. "You could always move out so you don't have to see it at all." she threw back to him, as he rummaged through the closet looking for the warmest clothes he had. 

"Don't tempt me." he growled under his breath. Trying hard to avoid putting enough weight behind his words, knowing if he did everything would come toppling down. 

Despite his urge to escape once and for all, he'd planned to stay in his dysfunctional marriage long enough to avoid the potential suspicions of Cassidy's superiors. Knowing how afraid she was about their clandestine relationship ending the career she'd strived for. She loved her independence, and as much as he wanted her to be his kept woman, he knew destroying her career would only be another thing to hate himself for. 

"What are you doing?" Amanda's voice asked, from the bedroom. 

"What everyone else is doin'." he bit, as he pulled off the polo shirt he was wearing and grabbed a dark grey henley out of a draw. "Goin' out!" 

"Where? It's Christmas day. Don't tell me you and Trevor have business, today of all days?" 

Michael rolled his eyes and tensed his jaw. "Contrary to popular belief, Amanda. I actually have other friends I could spend time with." 

Amanda laughed cruelly. "Right. I guess the Vanilla Unicorn will see a spike in takings today." 

"Well, I'd rather pay someone a few bucks to look me in the eye, than piss away three grand on a handbag and spa vouchers in the hope that my wife might be civil with me for one Goddamn day." he said viciously, as he yanked a heavy blue check winter shirt off a hanger and threw it on. 

"Oh don't make this out to be my fault." Amanda hissed, as she stormed through the closet and into their ensuite bathroom. "It's pretty obvious you can't stand to be here either." 

"Who could blame me?" he gave back, grabbing some boots off the shelf and dropping them on floor by his feet . "The one day of the year that we're supposed to try to get along, and all I hear is bitchin' from the moment I wake up, until now." 

"What other reaction would you expect at the prospects of being in _your_ company?" 

Michael laughed sardonically. "Well far be it from me to force you to do somethin' you don't want to do." 

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?" Amanda gave back bitterly. 

"Jesus Christ!" Michael sighed, crouching down to tie his boots. He couldn't bring himself to waste more energy on fighting the same fight again; the record never changed. "If you're drivin', be careful. I don't wanna have to come and tow your ass out of a ditch." he said, hiding the fact he did still care for the woman he'd married, even if he'd grown to not like her very much. 

"Don't act like you give a shit." Amanda snapped. "And I'll be fine, I don't seem to remember you ever driving me anywhere back in the mid-west, but I still managed." 

"Of course you did, honey!" Michael smiled sarcastically, standing up and smoothing out his clothes. "Internet shoppin' wasn't such a big thing back in those days, how else would you get out to spend my money without drivin' in the snow?"

"Screw you, Michael!" she hissed. "Go see if you can find some Christmas spirit with a stripper." 

"Will do." he sang snidely, turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom, leaving his wife to go about making herself happy, while he went and did the same.


	2. Mixtape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the fluff! And a glimpse of who I think Michael has the potential to be...with time and the right encouragement haha! (Oh, and the song used at the end is called [Groovy Kind Of Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWy6yjjMKk0).)

Across town in the little beachside enclave, Cassidy was busy distracting herself from thoughts of Michael and the other people she couldn't be with at that time of year. She'd hated Christmas for years, as all it did was remind her of her past and emphasize just how much she'd been forced -and in some cases chosen- to isolate herself from others. What hurt worse for her that day was knowing that the one person she'd grown closest too - she'd pushed away. 

Since opening up to Michael and having him understand her past in the way he did, had made her fall harder for him than she wanted to, but she'd refused to allow herself to see him as some kind of saviour. She wouldn't allow herself to be the kind of woman who needed a man to complete her life, but her relationship with Michael had filled a gaping void in her soul that longed for affection and understanding. In all his ornery, sarcastic glory he'd managed to enrich her life in so many ways. 

However, despite desperately wanting him to be around her all the time, especially during the holidays she'd pushed him towards his family, knowing that they needed him more than she did. That he wasn't hers for the taking -especially not at that time of year- and sadly, she wasn't naive enough to allow herself to believe that he ever truly _would_ be hers, and hers alone. 

In an attempt to find some significant distraction from the emptiness and anxiety she felt, she had arranged to meet up with some of the people she'd come to know in town. The plan had been to descend on some hipster coffee shop that ignored Christmas, in some vague attempt to screw the establishment. All while still milking money out of the caffeine addicted locals who couldn't get their fix from the bigger corporations who closed for the holiday, but of course, the unexpected wild weather had put an end to those plans. 

The unprecedented appearance of a snow storm had sent the city into chaos, and made her glad that she'd also agreed to make herself busy by putting in a few hours logged into a state wide helpline. It was a thoughtful initiative which offered counselling and support to people who struggled with the festive seasons. However, despite having her phone by her side at all times, ready to take any call that was transferred through to her, she'd so far only spoken to one person in need. A young man who was struggling with the idea of going home to his overbearing parents who apparently deemed him the family failure. 

Being as professional as she could, Cassidy had reassured him and tried to bolster what little confidence the young man had, and after almost an hour of talking he found the push he needed to attempt spending time with his relatives. While she was relieved to have helped, the phone calls end had left her feeling empty again. Sending her back to search for another distraction, to avoid thoughts of all she was missing out on that day. 

With the snow cancelling her plans to get out of the house, she had initially contemplated spending the whole day in bed. Yet somehow she'd managed to find the urge to get up, showered and dressed, putting on some black leggings and an oversized grey t-shirt that hung off one shoulder. Padding downstairs into her cold, empty house she went to the television first, flicking through a half dozen channels, trying to find something to watch that wasn't focused around Christmas and all the supposed joy it bought to people, but found she was fighting a losing battle. So instead, she'd caught up on some work. 

She killed an hour by arranging her new diary and planning out her therapy sessions for several weeks into the coming new year. Once professional duties were milked for all they were worth, she'd browsed the internet for any leftover bargains that took her fancy, but she was fortunate enough to not want for anything. 

She lit started a fire to warm the house and lit some tealights to counter the gloom outside, which worked well enough to make the house feel cosy, and take the edge off the emptiness around her. Out of boredom, she vacuumed and even put on a load of laundry, just to kill a few extra minutes. She tried reading a book too, but couldn't get into the story. 

Time seemed to be moving backwards, and she contemplated putting on a few extra layers and attempting a run along the snow covered beach, just to chase the time away, but looking outside her patio windows to the icy greyness put her off that idea quickly. As dull as it was, staying indoors definitely seemed much more pleasant than venturing out in the bitter cold, and slipping on her ass in the heavy dusting of snow that covered the ground. 

After a few minutes of twiddling her thumbs her eyes fell on a recipe book on her kitchen counter, and even though she didn't consider herself someone who really enjoyed cooking, she began wandering over to the kitchen. Flicking through the pages for something easy to do with what little ingredients she kept in her cupboards. Selecting a page with promised incredible looking cookies, she tied up her long curly hair and began to throw a bunch of ingredients into a bowl, and started mixing. 

Her mind went across the country to her family, especially her mother, who used to go all out every year for a full on Italian Christmas. Due to her upbringing, Cassidy knew quite a few festive dishes that she could make and enjoy, but there was no point in cooking something deliciously elaborate for herself. With Michael agreeing to stay away she'd planned to just survive on the snacks and leftovers she had in the fridge; knowing that the following evening he'd be coming over to spend the night. He promised to bring with him one of the Christmas tree shaped pizza's the local takeout had been promoting since Halloween. 

Although she was adamant Michael had to spend the big day with his family, they'd compromised on seeing each other for a few hours on the night before Christmas, with the promise of spending the whole day together the day after. It gave them both something to look forward to and an actual Christmas together, a day late but far more welcome than the one that came on time. 

Even though she'd made plans to avoid cooking a festive feast, she'd still stocked up plenty on supplies. Her fridge was loaded with booze, and various snacks, ready to wait out the holidays and the snow to re-emerge once life had returned to normal. 

Having seen how grey it was outside made her glad she'd thought to stock up on everything needed. The idea of having to venture out in the snow into Los Santos traffic was terrifying. The city's residents barely knew how to drive in rain and panicked if the mercury dipped below fifty degrees. No, it was far safer to hunker down at home, and try not to think about everything she couldn't have that day. 

With the cookies baking on a low heat, she wandered back over to the patio doors and looked out on the world. The ocean that usually sparkled sapphire blue outside her windows, was a murky grey colour and the sea breeze that she loved had turned against her, sending light snow drifts up a foot or so against her patio doors. Locking her inside and keeping the icy world out. 

She'd lived most of her life in Liberty City, battling against the winter whiteness for several months of the year. She thought she'd seen the back of such weather, but apparently mother nature was having a joke at San Andreas' expense, giving them the white Christmas so many people sang about but actually didn't really want to live through. 

She sighed heavily to herself and moved over to the living area, dropping down on the couch she picked up a balled pair of fluffy pink socks and pulled them on to warm her feet, before grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around herself to keep warm while the oven worked its magic on her cookies. 

She picked up the remote and began cycling the TV stations again, hoping that at some point during her culinary distraction there had magically been some change to the quality of programming, but her hope was wasted. The same festive shit seemed to be playing on a loop. 

After a few minutes of Christmas songs, aggressive marketing campaigns and phony seasonal happiness she admitted defeat. She began to contemplate accessing the online movie database she paid a monthly subscription for, when the sound of a buzzer filled the living room. 

Her eyes shot to the clock on the far wall, which told her it was a little too soon for her cookies to be ready. She quickly guessed she'd miss set the oven timer, as she still hadn't got used to the damn thing despite living there for months, but when the sound rang out again it told her that it wasn't the oven at all. It was in fact her front door. 

"What the...?" she said silently to herself, throwing off the blanket and getting to her feet. She hardly knew anyone who'd call on her in good weather, and she knew even less who'd made a trip to her front door in a snow storm. 

Instinctively her guard was up, and she avoided releasing the lock remotely via the panel on her living room wall and instead she opened the interior door to her house and took the steps down to ground level where someone was waiting behind the large, windowless oak door. 

She kept the security chain in place, as she cracked the door open and peeked out to the bleak whiteness. Standing there looking at her hopefully, was a face she hadn't expected to see that day, but one that filled her with a blast of excitement and joy. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" she cried out to Michael, closing the door enough to free the chain quickly before opening it wider. Looking out to the street, checking left and right to for prying eyes before focusing back in to get a full look at him. 

He looked pale against the snow, his nose and cheeks glowing red from the few seconds of exposure since getting out of his car. He was carrying a large box under one arm, full of an assortment of snack packages and bottles, with a large gift bag poking out and taking up most of the space inside the box. 

"I told you to stay with your family. You shouldn't be here." she told him firmly. Her initial thrill dissolving to the bitter reminder of the realty of their relationship. 

"I know!" Michael replied on a sigh. "I know I said I would try to stay home but...." he didn't know where to begin explaining just how awful the day had been in the De Santa household. He didn't want to bitch and moan about it to her, he just wanted to forget and try to salvage something from the day. "...It was a fuckin' disaster, baby!" he pled. "Dinner went tits up, Tracey and Amanda left the house, and Jimmy's holed up in his room not givin' a fuck about anythin' and..." he hesitated, taking in the stern look on her face. She wasn't annoyed at him, but she was disappointed that he hadn't tried harder to keep his promise to do right by his family. "I tried, baby!" he defended. "But I just wanted to be here, with you." He wasn't good with expressing his feelings at the best of times, and he often struggled with saying too much or not enough but he needed her to know how he felt, to show her were his loyalties now really lay. 

Cassidy sighed heavily; she struggled with his puppy eyes at least once in every day they spent together. Even though her conscience yelled about how awful she was for allowing him to come to her on that day, she couldn't shut the door on him. She hated herself for needing him the way she did, for being weak for him, but she couldn't help it. She missed the comfort his presence bought to her, and she needed the laughter and love they shared. 

"I guess you better come in then." she said with a twinkle of relief in her eyes. 

"Thought you'd never ask." he grinned excitedly. "I'm freezin' my dick off out here." 

She stepped back from the door and let him into the small foyer inside. "Can't have that. What good would you be to me then?" she teased, instantly clicking into the playfully sassy character that Michael had come to know and love so much. 

"I thought my sparklin' wit and personality was enough for you." he joked, stomping the snow off his boots onto the doormat. 

"Just about." she chuckled, as she closed the door behind him. Turning back just in time to see him lift a sprig of something festively familiar out of the box he was carrying in one arm. 

He smiled at her proudly, holding mistletoe above his head. His eyes wide and eager, ready for her kiss, but she just laughed at him and softly shook her head. "You're such a dork." 

Michael shrugged his shoulders, as if to confirm her diagnosis and wiggled the mistletoe around to encourage her forward. With an amused smile she stepped into him, mindful of the large box he was carefully gripping under one arm, she placed her hands on both sides of his face and kissed him firmly on the lips, warming him instantly. 

"Merry Christmas, baby!" he smiled, wishing he could drop everything he was holding and reach out and grab her instead, but he knew smashing a bunch of beer bottles on her foyer floor wouldn't have been a good start to their time together. 

"Merry Christmas." she smiled back, kissing him once more for good measure. 

She looked into his eyes for a moment, thinking back on all the shit they'd been through together. How every initial concern she had with getting involved with him had been proven unfounded. While their relationship was highly immoral in a number of ways, it had enhanced both their lives greatly. 

Michael had come to realize that when he'd cheated before he'd done so out of loneliness. Some misguided attempt to find comfort and understanding with another human being in the only way he knew how - physically. However, with Cassidy there was so much more than just a physical connection. 

Over the weeks since they'd first given in to their desires their relationship had blossomed into something neither of them felt worthy of but were so grateful for. They had the best of both worlds it seemed, wild and passionate sex paired with love and understanding, and the ability to be comfortable and natural around one another. There was no need to pretend to be someone they weren't. Nothing felt forced, and there were no expectations between them. They simply enjoyed being together, in any way or setting possible. 

Giving him a loving smile, Cassidy lead the way back up into the house and Michael followed her inside to the living room. Wasting no time in putting all he was carrying down on the sideboard besides the door and stopping to take off his boots. 

"I like this 'Lumberjack' look you got going on." she teased. Noting how the dark blue plaid winter shirt he was wearing over a grey Henley worked perfectly with the stubble that had become a light beard over recent weeks, to give him a rugged look that paired well with the harsh weather outside. 

Michael chuckled as he stepped out of his boots and unbuttoned his shirt. "It's kinda hard to find anythin' warm that ain't hipster plaid in this city." 

Cassidy smiled at him, another day another negative comment about hipsters. Next he'd been bitching about bad drivers and millennials, of which of course she was one, and their generational differences were sometimes very apparent but oddly he didn't find cause to complain about it - _too much!_

"I thought we weren't doing presents." Cassidy frowned, having noted the gift sticking out of the box and the large bundle wrapped haphazardly in red paper with cartoon reindeers on it. 

"We're not." he dismissed. "These are for my other girlfriend, I'm gonna go see her after I've had my way with you." Michael teased. 

She chuckled; she loved the dynamic they'd developed. How they kept each other on their toes with playful jokes; trusting one another and comfortable enough in their love for each other to tease about silly things. 

"Oh, that's good because I've got a guy coming over later, and it ain't Santa Claus." she countered. 

Michael laughed deeply at the way she was always ready to bat something sassy back to him. He knew most people hated his snark and sarcastic humour but she complimented it so well. 

Desperate to touch her, he reached out, grabbing her slim hips and pulling her into him firmly. "I missed you!" he purred, looking into her blue eyes. 

"You were only here last night." she smiled softly, snaking her arms around his neck. 

"I know." he dismissed, and kissed her lips deeply, instantly drawing out the passion inside her warming his cold skin and sending hot tingles to all the right places. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth, as he tightened his arms around her, holding her against him, as close as he could get her. Enjoying the warmth of her body as well as her kiss. 

Her hands ran up the back of his head to play in his thick dark hair, as he slipped a hand under her oversized t-shirt, touching her bare skin - she flinched, breaking the kiss with a yelp. 

"Gah! Your hands are fucking freezing!" she cried, pushing back from him. 

Michael smirked wickedly. "Better help me warm 'em up then." he made a grab for her again but she dodged him. 

"NO!" she squealed. "I can't. I'm logged into this support line thing." she told him. " _And_ , I've got cookies in the oven, so you gotta keep your paws to yourself." she reprimanded with a playful smile on her lips. 

Michael's eyes sparkled with a laugh but he gave a low growl, which made her tingle with delight for a moment, before she slipped away from him back into the kitchen. Just in time to shut off the oven before the buzzer started screaming at her. 

Michael finished taking off his heavy winter shirt, and rolled up the sleeves of his Henley, before picking up the box he'd bought in again and taking it over to the kitchen counter. "I bought some supplies." he announced, taking out bags of chips and a box of candy before pulling out a case of beer and a bottle of bourbon. 

"All the essentials, I see." Cassidy chuckled, as she worked at placing the cookies onto a rack to cool. 

"Of course!" Michael smirked. "Those smell amazin' by the way." he moved over to take a look at what she'd made, and his greedy hands couldn't help but make a grab for one of the cookies but she slapped the back of his hand with the spatula she was using. 

"Hands off!" she scolded. "They're for later." 

Michael looked at her with his best pouty face. "No lovin', no cookies, I don't know why I came over here." he joked. 

"For the view." she told nonchalantly, perfectly deflecting his humour with her own. 

Michael laughed deeply, she always had a comeback for him. "Fuckin' A!" he purred, his eyes running over her, fixating for a moment on her bare shoulder. As images of all the intimate things they'd done together danced across his eyes. 

He moved into her again, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping his arms around her from behind, placing a warm kiss on her neck as she melted back into his arms. Trying her best to keep concentrating on decanting the fresh cookies and not to give into the urge to cut to the chase and give in to what they both wanted to spend the rest of the day doing. 

"You hungry?" she asked as he placed soft little kisses on her neck. 

"Yes." he purred, his lips against her skin and a tone in his voice that said he wasn't talking about food. 

"Not for that." she giggled and shrugged him off to allow herself enough room to turn and look at his face. She reached up and stroked his cheek, moving in to kiss him on the lips softly. Trying to show him silently that he'd made her Christmas wish come true by appearing on her doorstep unexpectedly. 

He looked over her face for a moment, he knew it sounded like a ridiculous but he really did find her more beautiful every time he saw her. The way she joked with him, some days making him smile and laugh so much his face hurt. How she took care of him amazed him too. She'd told him on several occasions to not expect her to be some kind of "perfect mistress" who would be the envy of his wife, but he'd long established that she was all he could have ever hoped for, and all her imperfections were what he loved the most. 

She gave him so much without even trying. Just knowing she was there for him was sometimes enough, but in his darkest moments she'd proven her love to him a million fold. She'd talked him off the ledge several times, calmed him down when he was raging with fury, comforted him when he was hurt or jolted out of a nightmare in the middle of the night. 

She made him think about things he'd never considered; opened his mind to possibilities and viewpoints that he'd been ignorant and blind to. She was slowly working some kind of a miracle on him; her love was making him a wiser man, and making him learn to finally love himself, in the right way. 

He knew he didn't deserve to love, or even like, himself. He understood clearly that he didn't deserve a woman like her either. He wasn't a good man, and he certainly wasn't worthy of such happiness that he found with her but he was so grateful to have her in his life. Someone who reminded him that he could be loved, and wanted. That he was worthy of something more than the miserable existence he'd built for himself. 

She'd awakened parts within him that he'd buried or tried to kill off over the years of emptiness, reminding him of how good it could feel to relax in someone's company and find joy in life again. Showing him he could be a fun person to be around as he used to be in his youth. How he was capable of achieving true happiness, as well as giving and receiving love without it coming attached to a price tag. 

"I'm really glad you're here." Cassidy confessed in his arms. She knew it was risky to condone him abandoning his family but being alone was driving her slowly mad.

He smiled at her softly, reaching up behind her head and pulling out the band that kept her hair tied up and watched with loving eyes as her long dark locks tumbled down around her face. He loved to see her with her hair down, it was such a contrast to how he'd come to know her as his therapist. So neatly put together, so controlled. Her wild waves suited her personality so much more than the formal straightened look she went for at work. 

"Not as glad as I am." he told her, moving his lips to hers. Kissing her deeply as he squeezed her tight to him. 

After a few moments of healing, they mutually broke the kiss and looked at one another with smiling eyes. "You wanna open your presents or get drunk first?" he asked, excited for either option. 

"I told you I didn't want you buying me anything." she said dejectedly. She knew he would, despite her protesting about him not spending a dime on her, he still went out of his way to do so. The only times they argued since getting together had been over his spending, and his regular refusal to allow her to pay her way. 

To Michael's frustrations since the moment their relationship became solidified, she had constantly demanded that everything be equally split. She refused to allow him to lavish her with gifts, as he'd tried to on a couple of occasions. She didn't care for money, or him buying her expensive jewellery or dresses or shoes, she just wanted to be in the company of someone who made her feel as good as he did. Someone who loved her and understood all the darkness that lived beneath her surface. 

"I know, but it's Christmas and I love you." he told her honestly and she smiled again. 

"I love you too." she replied tenderly. "And I might have broken the rules and got you something." 

"I knew you would." he laughed with excitement in his eyes. 

"I can't even stick to my own rules." she said, considering for a beat just how accurate that statement was, based on how she'd throw her professional morals to the wind and wound up intimately involved with him, her client. 

"Good. Means I'm off the hook for breakin' 'em!" he smirked. 

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "You're the worst."

"Yeah, I know. But you love me." 

"Yeah. I do." she smiled, kissing him once more, before slipping out from him and hurrying through to the living room and over to a bag that was sitting beside her fireplace. While he quickly gathered up the gift bag out of the box and wandered into the living room to meet her at the couch. 

He took a seat and breathed in the cozy atmosphere and comforting smells. The warmth from the fire and candlelight was effortless yet somehow perfect and even with the distinct lack of decorations, he felt more Christmasy in that moment in her living room than he had in years. 

He wanted to feel guilty for it. For being unable to muster any excitement for his own home and his family that day, but he couldn't. He wouldn't allow himself to spoil the remainder of the day now he was with her. In the one place in the world that he wanted to be more than anything. 

Cassidy joined him on the couch, sitting with her legs tucked under her butt and turning in to face him. "What _is_ that?" she laughed, at the large soft looking parcel that had been peeking out of the box he'd bought in, but was now perched patiently on his knee. 

"Open it!" he told her passing it to her, and she wasted no time in ripping off the paper to reveal a large stuffed animal. A polar bear, with a big sparkly blue bow around his neck and a big black nose and cute cartoon eyes. 

"I suck at buying presents." he explained, a little ashamed by just how much he'd struggled to find her something she'd like. "I usually just let the chick in the jewellery store decide for me." he confessed, feeling the need to justify his silly gift somehow, in case she didn't appreciate it. 

Nothing about Cassidy said she'd enjoy a stuffed animal, the things he knew about her past told him it was a stupid idea to buy her such a thing, but her face lit up with a smile as she looked the teddy over. 

"I figured he could keep my side of the bed warm when...I can't be here." Michael told her solemnly, hoping she'd understand his motives, and she showed that she did with a loving smile. 

"He's very cute, thank you." she beamed, hugging the bear close and noting that she could smell Michael's cologne on it faintly. He wouldn't be a substitute for him, but it was a nice gesture and she liked the idea of having something she could hug that reminded her of him. 

Michael gave her a soft smile, wishing he could have lit up her face with something shiny and valuable. Buying things for her that weren't expensive was a challenge beyond measure, as he hadn't bought anything meaningful for years. He considered that he'd maybe never done such a thing, especially since having money to burn. 

He knew how to get flowers and jewellery, and things where the price tag meant more than any thought put into the purchase, but anything that required a little imagination and sentiment was usually not in his wheelhouse. 

It seemed that with Cassidy he was having to relearn all his lavish ways as she didn't appreciate thousands of dollars worth of jewellery and designer labels, like his wife and children did. He'd come to understand that she'd rather he gave her a pebble he'd found on the beach than a rock he'd picked out from inside a glass display case located somewhere on Little Portola. 

"I got you this too." he told quickly, feeling a little foolish for his impulse buy. He reached back into the gift bag on the table and bought out a flat square package. It had the potential for being something expensive and she cast her eyes to him disapprovingly. 

"It wasn't expensive, I swear." he defended, torn between loving the way she dug in her heels over his spending, and wishing she'd allow him to spend money on her so he could really feel like he was showing her how much she meant to him. 

Sometimes he wasn't sure if he was doing a good enough job of letting her know what he felt for her. The whole relationship had become a learning curve for him, having gone from making no effort with his wife, to making every effort for Cassidy was a huge change, and at times a challenge, but one he'd oddly embraced. 

"Good!" she said firmly, excepting the box from him and unwrapping it under his watchful eye. 

She could feel his energy was uncharacteristically nervous, and inside she smiled. She seemed to love him a little bit more every time he stepped out of his comfort zone for her, as she knew him making special efforts to be a better man and not slip into his old habits meant far more than any riches he could bring her. 

Under the wrapping, she found a clear plastic box, containing a pair of what were, according to the packaging battery heated socks. 

She looked confused for a beat, and Michael panicked. "Your feet are always cold." he told her. "I figured these might help."

Cassidy laughed softly and shook her head softly. "You mean they might stop me sticking my cold feet in your back?" 

"Yeah, something like that." he chuckled. 

"They're perfect!" she smiled warmed by the fact he'd actually bought her something relevant and useful. Something that was simple, and inexpensive but showed he'd actually taken the time to think about getting her something that would actually benefit her in some way. 

She'd been imagining him buying her bath bombs or scented candles, or something that he could just grab off a shelf in a department store without putting any mind to it, but it seemed he'd actually thought about giving her something she'd like. Something that would touch her heart with simplicity and love, and make her fall even more hopelessly in love with him than she already was. 

"Thank you." she smiled, trying to show him that she really did appreciate him and the gifts, no matter how silly he thought they were, but she could sense he was feeling uncharacteristically awkward, and figured she needed to cut him some slack, and quickly. "Okay. Now it's your turn." she told him, hoping to also distract herself from how she felt like she wanted to burst into tears and tell how pleased she was with him for actually listening to her. For buying her something that came from his head and his heart, and not just his credit card.

Not wanting to let her emotions get the better of her, she reached into the black carrier bag she'd bought over and lifted out a flat rectangle box covered in silver paper with a blue bow stuck in the middle. 

Michael chuckled softly at the eager look on her face as she sat back and bit her lip, watching him tear off the paper to reveal his gift. It had been difficult to get him something, but not through lack of ideas and the urge to buy everything she saw, especially the sentimental things, but she knew she had to be careful. 

She couldn't get him some cute trinket that held a special reference to their relationship, and she couldn't buy him a a watch with a meaningful engraving on the back. Even getting him a cute tie or a nice shirt was out of the question, because she knew while his wife didn't pay too much attention, if she found cause for suspicion things would get difficult, fast. Instead she opted to buy something that would have an impact without drawing attention. Getting him things she hoped he'd enjoy and be able to keep in his house without fear of awkward questions. 

"Seriously?" he cried, looking at the DVD case in his hand. "Is this real? How the hell did you get this?" he showed her the case like she didn't know what she'd bought him. "Solomon couldn't even get a copy on eight-mil." 

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, she knew he'd go nuts over it. "I told you before, I'm magic." she joked. 

"Fuckin'-A, you are!" Michael grinned, his eyes roaming over the cover for a Richards Majestic movie called The Welshman. An old black and white film he'd seen only once as a teenager at a Saturday matinee, in a crappy, ice cold, rat pit of a movie theatre. He'd loved every second of it of course, but the movie had sank without a trace years ago, and hadn't even aired on any TV channel since the eighties. 

Despite working for the production company he hadn't been able to get his hands on a copy, and he recalled mentioning it to her once just in passing, and he could hardly believe that she'd remembered well enough to get him such a gift. 

"It's only a copy." she explained. "I found a dude online, in Japan, who had a shitload of old movie reels, betamax and laser discs and stuff, and he converts them onto DVD. He made it happen." 

"This is amazing! Thank you!" Michael beamed, unable to believe that someone had bought him a gift that he actually wanted, something he'd get some real enjoyment out of. 

Despite having spent a fortune on his family, all he'd got from them was cufflinks and he was pretty sure that they were the same pair he'd received the year before. It was of no surprise to him of course, everything he enjoyed was deemed as tedious to them. They hated his movies, his music, his clothes, even his car. He couldn't blame them for it, they were from different worlds, but it still hurt somehow to feel as if there was no understanding or appreciation between those closest to him. 

"You're welcome. We can watch it if you want?"

"D'ya have to ask?" he said wide eyed with excitement, but a guilt slowly creeping in for the fact he hadn't been able to buy her something that seemed to thrill her as wildly as her gift to him had. 

"You gotta open your other present first though." she told him, reaching back into the bag and lifting out a thick, heavy looking rectangle, wrapped in the same paper, and handing it to him. 

It didn't matter what was inside, she'd made his year by finding such a cinematic treasure. He ripped off the paper and revealed a book titled 'One-Thousand-and-One Movie Facts'. 

"You probably know at least half of them already, but I thought it could be interesting for work and stuff. A fun read." 

Michael looked over the cover of the book, his heart full of a million emotions, most of which he was sure had official names, or had ever been felt by him before. The last time he'd received a gift he actually liked was when Amanda had bought him a set of golf clubs for his first birthday in Los Santos. That was years ago, and golf had proven to be more of a stress than a pleasure. Not to mention the clubs had cost a small fortune, from his own wallet, but the simple book Cassidy had found somehow seemed to count for so much more. 

"It's awesome. Thank you, baby." 

Cassidy felt unusually awkward, a throwback to when they first met and how uneasy she'd feel in his company. Now of course it was for different reasons, her own flaws in struggling to accept praise and gratitude. Hell, he'd seen her naked, touched her in places others never had, done things to her that she couldn't describe in polite company, but somehow giving him a gift, that really seemed to touch him made her feel shy and almost nervous. It was ridiculous, and she knew it but she couldn't stop herself feeling it. 

"Put the movie in, before we get too sappy. I'll get the snacks." she blurted out, trying hard to avoid the odd feelings she was having, getting to her feet and heading to the kitchen to gather up some food and booze. Giving herself a second to re-harden her confident outer shell. 

Michael's eyes followed to her and he smiled to himself. He knew it was wrong to enjoy it when she got all vulnerable and coy, but he couldn't help it. He loved that side of her as much as he loved her strength, humour, deep affection, passionate temper _and_ her darkness. He knew he'd really landed on his feet by taking a chance on returning to therapy and meeting her. 

As he looked at her busily gathering up goodies his mind thought of the old cliché - that if someone had told him the Christmas before that he'd actually feel happy the following December twenty-fifth, he'd have laughed and called them an idiot. But there he was, feeling relaxed, contented and loved. He really couldn't believe his luck, that he, a miserable old bastard who had done wrong by so many people, had somehow managed to find love. Real love; one that had already surpassed all his hopes. 

Happy in the choices he'd made for that day and all the weeks that lead up to him being there, Michael got to his feet and moved to the TV. Searching its sides for the DVD slot, as Cassidy took a moment to watch him from the kitchen. 

When he wasn't weighed down by his life's stresses he was fun to be around, he made her laugh by being almost goofy at times and mischievous too. He was affectionate and even though he already knew he had her completely, he still flirted with her. He was often thoughtful and tender; everything she'd always sensed he could be underneath the brash exterior. His charm had initially enchanted her but it was the softer, warm and funny man inside the cold, bravado hardened, shell that she'd really fallen for. 

She was pleased by the way he always seemed so at home in her house, at peace almost. He was still the sarcastic, hopeless ass that she'd come to know and love in her office, but when they were alone he seemed to blossom into so much more. Their love had become the solace they had both so desperately needed, but still she struggled every day with the knowledge of what they were doing, cheating and betraying all ethical practice of her profession. 

They were playing with fire simply by being in the same room together, but she couldn't pull herself away from the flames between them. She loved being with him, their relationship felt so fulfilling and effortless, but she knew the world outside held so many risks, so many holes in the road waiting to send them into a tailspin. 

She took a moment and looked deep insider herself to find the strength to lock the niggling troubles away again, and just enjoy Christmas with the man she loved, for all he was - warts and all. 

She bundled up as many good things to eat and drink as she could carry and returned to the living area, putting a four pack of beers down on the table, followed by a couple of bags of chips and popcorn and a plate of cookies. She picked one up and turned to Michael, told him to 'open' and stuffed the cookie into his mouth, just a moment before he pulled her down into his lap. 

He bit off a piece of cookie, and pulled the rest from his mouth, looking at her as he chewed and she played with his hair thoughtfully. "Damn. This is good." he sang, enjoying the warm sweetness of the vanilla.

"Not bad for a way to kill boredom." she joked, knowing her culinary repertoire often left a lot to be desired, even after being raised in an Italian family who spent most of their time in the kitchen surrounded by bubbling pots and roaring ovens. 

"You're a woman of many talents." Michael smiled and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He couldn't believe how good he felt being there with her. How his day had gone from hell to heaven in a matter of minutes. It was wrong of him to feel such a way, and unfair of him to make her the remedy for his problems, but the harder he tried not to feel that way, the more she seemed to prove that was exactly what she'd become. 

"It's been ten minutes and already this is the best Christmas I've had." he told her, candid in his honesty. 

Cassidy looked at him lovingly, thing of all he'd told her about his past, which often played on her mind. The pain she knew to be under the surface of his strong exterior, the scars he fought hard and lied boldly to prevent people seeing. Too proud to admit to being as damaged inside as he truly was. He'd let her see it all, trusted her enough to see the open wounds and know the softness that lay just under the armour, and she loved him all the more for it. 

"Me too!" she kissed him softly again, silently reassuring him that she truly did feel the same way, before slipping off his lap and settling down beside him instead. He kept his arm around her as he munched on the cookie and she snuggled against his side and pulling a blanket across the two of them. Carefully tucking it over his lap before nuzzling into his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his arm tightening around her, keeping her close. 

He hit play on the remote and the old black and white movie began to roll. The crackling fire and twinkle of tea lights made for the perfect atmosphere to watch the dark detective drama, as the light fluffy snow continued to fall outside. She promised herself that she wouldn't fall asleep on him, as she so often did, but the warmth and comfort of his arms made it difficult to resist. 

She felt safe with him there, able to drop her guard and stop worrying about what troubles were potentially waiting around the corner for her personally, and for their relationship. Being with him in moments like that made everything they'd been through, and all the drama they were yet to face, worthwhile. 

The movie rolled and Michael watched with joy in his eyes. Glancing down every so often to Cassidy to see if she was as enthralled as he was. Whenever her eyes met his they stole a quick kiss or two, before turning their attentions back to the movie. 

Nothing about the situation felt especially like Christmas, tradition dictated that they should still be eating a feast, getting into arguments with in-laws and distant relatives, chugging back eggnog to somehow help the festivities go faster, but picture perfect Christmas be damned, Michael was content to be exactly where he was. 

A good movie, a beautiful woman, booze and snacks, he couldn't want for much else in the world. Although he found his mind strayed to his children, a twinge of guilt buried deep in his gut for how fractured his family had become. How morally questionable it was to find himself so happy with another woman, while being so far away from those he should have been with on that day. 

He put the worries at the back of his mind and sank deeper into the soft couch, squeezing his arm a little tighter around her, breathing her in and letting himself feel the love and affection she gave to him so freely. The very things he'd missed for so long. 

The hour grew late and one movie turned into two, and they naturally changed position to lie on the couch together. Cassidy tucked snugly between the back of the couch and Michael's side, her head resting on his chest as he lay on his back, cuddling her close, stroking her arm and watching the most unchristmasy movie they could find. 

Michael had begun to wonder if she'd fallen asleep besides him, but as if she'd read his thoughts her hand moved to his lower abdomen and she began to stroke her fingertips in lazy circles over his tummy. The sensation instantly sent heat rushing to his center and he growled low in his throat. 

The rumble was loud in her hear and she looked up at him curiously. "I told you before about doing that." he said, his voice a gruff purr. 

She smiled coyly, moving her hand back up to a safe location on his chest. "I know. I'm sorry." The smell of his skin and warmth of his body had been getting to her, making her tingle continuously with need and desire. 

"I didn't say stop." he exclaimed and she gave a soft laugh, putting her hand back where it was, letting it ghost just above his belt for a moment as she looked into his eyes. His muscles twitched with the urge to forget the movie and take her right there on the couch but some mellow part of him didn't want to move. He was too content and comfortable to want to shift and inch, but the twinkle in her eyes said he wouldn't have to. 

She raised up a little for a better purchase and moved her hand lower, gliding down over his belt to gently squeeze the bulge in his jeans. His body tense and he let out a frustrated groan, her touch ignited so many desires within him.

"I thought you were on the clock?" he asked lowly. 

"Another ten minutes and I'm free." she purred, rubbing him encouraging. "And besides, when did me being on the clock stop you before?" she smirked. 

He tried to smile at her proudly but the pleasure he felt rushing up through him stole it away. In one quick motion, she raised herself up and straddled him, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning down to kiss him. 

He didn't need any further encouragement to forget the movie, and his hand went to the back of her head, tangling in her thick curly hair. His tongue found hers again instantly and she moaned into his mouth, her hips responding, matching the rhythm of the slow motions their tongues made. Rubbing herself against him, driving heavenly tingles through both their bodies. 

Passion instantly built between them, his hands moved downward to caress her ass as she kneaded at his shoulders, forgetting all her looming responsibilities with the helpline and the film they were supposed to be invested in. 

His hand moved up under her shirt, now much warmer than when he first arrived, he caressed the smooth skin of her back, running his hands up to find she wasn't wearing a bra. She moaned into his mouth, pushing herself down firmly onto the bulge beneath her center, as his hand found her breast, squeezing it softly before thumbing her sensitive nipple. 

Her breath caught, and the heat between them turned up a notch. He felt her hands go for his belt as he deepened the kiss; their passion steadily cloaking them, and locking out all the elements of reality that surrounded them. 

Tingles began to ravage Cassidy's body as they kissed deeper, making her brim with the need to hurry things along so she could feel his hands and mouth on all the best parts of her body. But a melodic yet tinny tune suddenly began to knock at her ears. 

It took her a second to realize what it was, having sunk so deep into the man beneath her, but her logical brain began to send the antidote to lust through her veins and she opened her eyes to the harsh realities she had tried to ignore. 

"Shit!" she hissed, a sense of duty filling her quickly. She pulled back from him, but he grabbed her hips firmly, keeping her locked in place over him. 

"Ignore it." he told her, his eyes slightly hooded and full of lust. Her shoulders dropped disappointedly, but she smiled down at him with a twinkle in her eye. 

"I can't." she whined. "Duty calls! Stay here and be a good boy for a minute." with that, she leant in to him and kissed his lips with a firm roll of her hips, pressing herself down on the growing lump at his center. Making him groan deeply into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips, desperate to hang onto her, and for things to go further. But she broke her lips away and in one fluid motion she slipped his grip and climbed off him. Snatching up her phone from the coffee table and sweeping away into the kitchen. 

Michael blew out a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling and rubbed a hand over his face, feeling a little hot and bothered and plenty frustrated. He had been worried about getting old and having to rely on Mollis to satisfy someone so much younger, but sometimes it seemed Cassidy only had to brush past him and his pants became tight. She was truly helping him recapture his youth; as he'd thought the days of him going all night and more were gone, but they were simply dormant. Waiting for the right person to fully indulge himself with. 

Quickly deciding he needed to distract himself with something other than the swelling in his jeans, and the urge to ravage her on the kitchen floor, he sat up. Reaching out for his beer he knocked back a few swigs and looked around. It was almost dark outside, and he thought to his family, hoping they were safe but he wouldn't allow himself to check his phone. 

He knew he was a selfish prick for wanting to ignore them, but he couldn't bring himself to let anything burst the bubble that encompassed him and Cassidy. There were still things he need to say to her, things he needed to show her, and a feeling in his gut that said he hadn't done enough for her. A feeling which had only grown stronger and stronger as they watched movies together. 

The gift giving hadn't quite gone the way he'd planned, due to his own insecurities and little else. He knocked back some more beer to quell the feeling of failure, he glanced over to the kitchen to watch as Cassidy chatted to some unknown caller. 

She was walking back and forth, stopping occasionally to fiddle with something on the counter or a magnet on the fridge, a sign she was bored and probably struggling with what was happening in her own body. Michael smiled internally at the sight of her, and tuned his ears in to the conversation she was having with someone who needed her reassurance. 

"Well, if you really think she would poison the eggnog, you should avoid drinking any, or alternatively, how about taking your own?" 

Michael shook his head softly, almost chucking to himself, amused by what Cassidy sometimes had to deal with. She rarely spoke to him about her clients, protecting their privacy as much as she could but having been one himself he could only imagine the crap that was dropped into her lap on a daily basis. He admired her for having the patience to put up with so much, as he wasn't a man who cared much for other's problems but she was helping him learn to care about more than just what effected him personally. Encouraging him to think beyond the end of his own nose in an attempt to understand others around him. 

He looked inwardly for a moment and absentmindedly he began to pick up the balls of dissuaded wrapping paper and bottle caps from the coffee table and floor. Grabbing up the gift bag he'd bought and stuffing the waste back inside, but as he did so something slipped out. The gift he'd wilfully forgotten to hand over to her. 

He picked up the thin package and looked at it, an odd sensation settling in his stomach. Was it nervousness? Regret? He couldn't be sure. 

He'd agonized it for days, doubting its impact and appropriateness but he couldn't shake the desire to give it to her. In fact, in between his cycling doubts, he'd almost been kind of proud of the gift, but when the moment came it hand it over to her, he lost momentum and felt so stupid about it gain. 

Doubting himself and worrying it wouldn't be enough for her. A silly, childish gesture that wouldn't do anything to show her just how much he truly cared about her. He didn't do sentimental gestures very well, flowers and candy were about his limit, and he especially didn't know how to do sentimental gestures he'd created all by himself. He'd never put so much thought or energy into creating gift before and the idea of it going down like the proverbial lead balloon was rapidly putting him off discovering what reception it would really get. 

He picked at the sticky tape holding the paper in place, thinking of his options. He feared failure and knew it would be far easier to throw it out with the other trash, and never let her see it, but he hesitated. 

He could save himself so much embarrassment and protect his fragile male pride by disposing of it. The idea of her laughing at the gift, or somehow seeing him as weak and pathetic as a result of doing such a thing turned him cold. What if she found it as ridiculous as he repeatedly did? What if she thought less of him for doing something so out of his own character in the hopes of pleasing her? What if she liked the concept, but hated the content? There was so much that could go wrong, but inside there was still a burning light of hope that told him everything could go _right_

He swallowed hard, silently wishing that she'd just let him buy her something that sparkled. It would be so much easier on every level, and he wouldn't have felt so Goddamn uneasy and foolish handing her a box of designer gems. He would have been in his comfort zone, emotionally detached from a rock or a chunk of precious metal, but this gift was something from his heart. Something that would bare the soul he kept locked away for so long. 

No. It was a stupid idea! He had to scrap it and just hope the silly gifts he'd bought her would be enough. He moved to hide the slim package back under the trash when he suddenly felt her presence besides him. 

"What's that?" she asked out, without considering she might not like the answer. 

"Nothing." Michael dismissed too quickly, and continued to stuff it back into the bag with the screwed up wrapping paper. 

"It's not for me?" she asked again, her mouth getting away from her. Her negative mind latching onto any opportunity to let something spoil their time together. Looking for a painful reminder of their truth to burst the lovingly bubble they were encased in. 

Michael looked up at her and saw how hurt had softened her pretty blue eyes. He didn't need to be a psychologist himself to know what she was thinking. She'd guessed he'd mixed up Amanda's presents with the ones he'd bought for her. Or maybe she was worrying that their little joke about him having another girlfriend might have held some truth in the jest. Or she was afraid he didn't deem her worthy of the gift he'd bought. Whatever it was, he couldn't stand to see that look on her face. 

"It is." he assured. "But it's ridiculous. You won't want it." he shook his head and carried on gathering up the junk from the low table. 

Cassidy stepped closer, as if to try and interrupt his attempt to distract her. "Can I be the judge of that?" 

Michael stopped and looked up at her again, noting the glint of hope in her eyes. "It's stupid." he excused once more. Feeling so unconfident in the gesture he'd put together for her. 

She put out her hand; curiosity and concern getting the best of her. Michael's eyes dropped defeatedly, but he reached back into the gift bag to pulled out small square package back out. Reaching out to hand it to her without looking up, feeling the pit in his stomach pulling him down into a mire of rarely experienced emotions. 

She took it and sat down beside him, perching on the edge of the couch cushion and carefully picking the tape away from the wrapping to reveal a small clear plastic wallet with a disc inside. Written on it in a black marker pen were the words _'For My Girl Sassy'_ and the sight of those words alone filled her with joy like she hadn't felt before. Chasing away any worries she had about just who the gift had been originally intended for. 

He'd taken to giving her a nickname early into their relationship, _'Alright Sassy Cassie'_ he'd say whenever he couldn't compete with her comebacks and quips. The way she kept him on his toes with wit and playfulness was sometimes too much for him to keep up with. 

"I was in Bean Machine a couple weeks back and overheard some hipster talking about what to get his girlfriend.... his buddy said 'make a mix tape' and...." he explained nervously, hesitating, unsure how to properly say what he thought inside, but he just let himself talk. He knew whatever he said, she'd get it, _she always did_. "You make me feel like I'm young again, and it's the kinda shit ya do in highschool, right?" he said with an empty, apprehensive chuckle. "I just...I know you don't want me spendin' money and I don't know how else to do this gift thing. I-"

She jumped in, sensing all his worries and needing to put a stop to them. "I love it!" 

Michael's eyebrows raised. "You don't even know what's on it yet." 

"I don't need to." she assured, breaking into a wide, joyous grin. "I don't care if it's Polka music. You made me a friggin' mix tape!" 

Michael felt a comforting warmth swell through him, rushing up to his face and curling his lips into a smile. The look of delight on her face was so unexpected and deeply pleasing. He'd had so many doubts about making the CD for her, in fact he'd felt like a stone cold idiot for every considering it at first, it seemed so juvenile and corny. But he'd spent more time than was healthy looking for tips on how to buy a meaningful gift and came up with nothing that seemed right. He'd slyly asked the men in his life, who seemed to have more of a clue about pleasing women than he did, for tips but all they suggested required a huge wedge of cash, and that wasn't right for his girl. 

Nothing had seemed right in fact, but he couldn't shake the idea from his head and one night he found himself digging out his laptop from the closet and going through the songs he had on his music player. It had been so long since he'd updated anything to his phone, but it seemed every other day he heard a new song on the radio that made him think of Cassidy. 

He spent a silly amount of time, searching for the right tracks, with lyrics that meant something to him about her. He didn't have as wide a taste in music as he knew she had, but it wasn't difficult to find the new songs he'd heard, and plenty of older classics had renewed meaning to him now she was in his life.

He'd known all along that he had to make an effort for her, step out of his comfort zone further than ever before and give her something that would show her how special she was to him, but as he'd expected he doubted everything at the last minute. Too afraid that she'd somehow think less of him for doing something seemingly out of character. He certainly hadn't considered for a minute that she'd like the idea as much as her eyes said she did, and if he wasn't mistaken he could see a hint of a tear twinkling in her eye.

"Can I put it on?" she asked hopefully. 

"Sure. Go for it!" he nodded, feeling the nervous sensation in his gut shift to something closer to a type of excitement. Which Cassidy seemed to match, as she jumped up from the couch and practically ran across the room to the bookshelf where her stereo was located. 

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she took out the disk. The very idea of him sitting by a computer, picking out songs for her to hear was as amusing and unbelievable as it was adorable. 

When she told him she didn't want anything for Christmas she had expected him to not go against it. He loved to take the easy way out after all, and absolving him of the need to buy her anything should have been a chance he jumped at, but instead of not trying, he'd gone all out and done something completely unexpected. Taken the time to bring her something that had no monetary value but that had meaning which was worth a million dollars or more to her. 

Once the disc was in, she pressed play without a hesitation and stepped back as the first note of the song rang out. It took less than a few seconds for her to recognize it, although she was too young to have appreciated the track on its original release, she'd listened to the artist enough over the years to know the title. 

_'When I'm feeling blue, all I have to do, is take a look at you, then I'm not so blue....'_

She felt her eyes warm with emotion, as the heat of his body came up behind her. She turned to him, a tearful smile on her face. "I knew Phil Collins would be on this somewhere." she laughed. 

"What can I say? I'm painfully predictable." Michael shrugged. 

"No." she shook her head, her vision blurring with emotion. "You're not. Not at all." 

Michael looked over her face and felt another blast of warmth swell through his chest. He'd done it! He'd actually managed to put a genuine smile on the face of someone he loved, not just once in a day, but twice. And without spending a kings ransom's worth of material possessions too. 

Just as she'd promised him, she didn't care for money. It was the simple things in life that meant the most to her, things that he would have dismissed before meeting her. Proving to him once again that she was in love with him, and only him, not what his wallet could do for her. Not that he'd ever doubted her, but to see something so simple bring her so much job made the love he held in his heart for her expand bigger than ever before. 

_'When you're close to me, I can feel your heart beat. I can hear you breathing near my ear...'_

"Come 'ere." he called out, reaching for her hand and bringing her against him and cuddling her close. She slipped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder as they slowly began to sway softly to the music. 

Michael placed a tender kiss on her temple and stroked her back as she wrestled with her emotions and understanding of the man before her. She'd never imagined he'd make such an effort for her, he wasn't the type to go the extra mile, especially not in such a meaningful way.

However, as he so often seemed to do, he'd surprised her. Not by showing up out of the blue as he frequently had in the early days of knowing one another, but by showing her a genuine gesture of love. One that made her feel so special, and made her really start to believe that every word he promised her might really be true. 

_'Wouldn't you agree, baby you and me got a groovy kind of love.'_

They danced slowly, wrapped in each other's arms as the fire crackled, candles twinkled and the snow continued to fall outside. With the love song as their soundtrack, they both turned their minds to the future. Michael was convinced they'd have their happy ending, sooner rather than later. There was so much to navigate around, so many changes to make, and a hundred bridges to cross, but there had never been anything he wanted more than to take a leap and have her in his life full time. Be the couple he wanted them to be, let go of the past and find a better future with her by his side. 

"Next Christmas mornin', I'm gonna wake up next to you. I promise." he whispered into her ear, and she nuzzled him in wordless response as they swayed together in loving warmth. "This new year's gonna be our year, baby. I can feel it!" 

And for a moment, partly because of his soothing way of reassuring her that everything would be fine, but mostly just because of the magic of Christmas, she believed it. 

She needed to believe that everything was going to be okay, that all his promises would come right. That all the bullshit they'd been through was worth it, and that all the battles yet to come would be easily won. His positivity had always pulled her through the darkness, and the warmth of his love reassured her that the coming year would give them all they'd dreamed of, and more. 

However, the dark clouds that loomed outside, silently warned to be cautious of such optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you lovely people! I hope that was a fun read for you all, and that it's whet your appetite for more of the main story to discover how exactly Michael and Cassidy make it to their first Christmas together. 
> 
> I'll be back very soon with more updates to the main story, as long as you want them. As always I'd love to hear if you guys enjoyed it, thanks for reading!


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